Learning to Let Go
by develindiskies
Summary: I am a cliché. I'm 17 years old, a social outcast, and stumbling upon love when I need it the most. There will not be a happily ever after, but that could just be the pessimist in me. Because, really, if it was my choice my story would end now.
1. Chapter 1: Watched Pot

**A/N: I'm a new writer, never done this before, yadayada. let me know if you find this any good, and i'll continue. if not, it was fun, and this can kind of almost stand alone. Please point out grammar and spelling mistakes and please tell me exactly what you think. :)**

**thanks. dd.**

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I am a cliché. I'm 17 years old, a social outcast, and stumbling upon love when I need it the most. There will not be a happily ever after, but that could just be the pessimist in me. Because, really, if it was my choice my story would end now. I'm 17, suicidal, and about to jump off a cliff. Into the icy waters below, or a lovers embrace. I don't know which.

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**Chapter 1**

**Watched Pot**

"_Anyone desperate enough for suicide...should be desperate enough to go to creative extremes to solve problems: elope at midnight, stow away on the boat to New Zealand and start over, do what they always wanted to do but were afraid to try."_

_Richard Bach_

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The thing about tomorrow is that it will never come if you wait for it. It's much like a watched pot, that way. I'm sick of waiting for the promise of a new tomorrow, and so you won't find me with the rest of the ho-dunk high school at the Friday night bonfire by the cliffs in La Push. Instead I'm sitting, alone, at the cliff's edge with nothing but my bra, underwear, and tennis shoes on. The winds keep blowing my blonde bangs across my eyes, blurring my already tear filled vision. I can hear the music of Beyonce or Rihanna or Banana or Somebody filtering through the trees. The wind is cold, the rain is cold, and the water below me is sure to be much colder. But I don't really plan on surviving the fall, anyway. The tennis shoes are a back up plan, if I don't die from the fall, I'm sure to suffer from hypothermia as I hike the path back up to my clothes wearing nothing but soaking wet underwear. And I don't even mean that in a dirty way.

I wipe my tears away, pull my hair back into a sloppy ponytail, and get to my feet. I'm shivering so much my knees buckle a few times on the way up. It can't be warmer that 35 degrees and my body is not shy about voicing its complaints. I step towards the edge and peer over the side. The black waves roll violently in and out below me. I take a breath and steel myself.

I'm sick of waiting for tomorrow. I'm done waiting. This pot is never going to boil. I square my legs, take a deep breath, tighten my core, and raise both arms above my head in position for my dive. As I add spring to my legs by crouching down ever so slightly, bending my knees and feeling the strain in my thighs, I hear a voice. This isn't Banana, Apple, or Carrot playing on the boom box with all the high school jerks. This is a real person.

_Shit._

The voice behind me calls again, "Hey."

I'm frozen. This was not part of my plan, or any of my back up plans. I assumed no one would come to the cliff at night. I never thought I'd be caught in the act. Finally I let my arms drop down to my sides. I can't even turn around because the voice is male and I'm wearing nothing but a soaking wet bra, underwear, and tennis shoes.

"Hey," he says again and I hear his footsteps approaching me slowly. I guess he doesn't give up easily.

"Hey," I finally whisper back. He gets steadily closer until he is standing a few feet behind me.

"Whoa," he gasps as he sees my clothing predicament. "Whoa."

I chuckle mirthlessly before turning to face him. He's not someone I recognize and seeing as the school population is barely larger than I can count on two hands and feet, I'll take a shot in the dark and guess he's new. His clothing is as soaked as mine, though he's wearing a lot more layers than I am. He has on dark jeans and a navy hoodie with the words "Temecula High School" printed above a roaring white tiger. Yep. He's not from around here. As I scan up and down his body I can't help but stare into his green eyes. The same way the waves are see-through black, his eyes are green. So green and clear it's almost as if I can see straight into his soul. His hair is dripping and matted down to his forehead.

"I'm not interrupting something, am I?" He eventually stammers.

"No," I say, "nothing of importance." Because I'm not. Important, that is.

"Oh, so, um, we're you planning on putting some clothes on or…" He scratches the back of his neck when he's uncomfortable.

"Give me a minute and I'll get dressed."

"Yeah, sure, okay." He turns away slowly, but not before taking one last look at my nearly naked form. As I'm pulling on my wet jeans he begins speaking again. "So, I'm new here, and I guess you already knew that, but my name's Edward and I don't know anybody here yet besides you and the girl at the grocery check out stand. I think her name was Jessy or something. And I don't even know your name – "

"Bella." I cut him off.

"Oh, okay. So you're Bella, I'm Edward, and the girl at the checkout is Jessy."

"Jessica. Jessica Stanley." I correct him.

"Jessica. Right. She told me there was going to be a bonfire up on the cliffs tonight and that the entire high school would be here, but I wasn't expecting all the rain, the cold, or the bad music. Or the fact the entire high school is so small."

I grimaced as I tugged my sweatshirt over my head. "Yeah," I don't really know what else to say to him.

"So I take it that you being over here alone means you're not too keen on your peers?" He voice is gentle and soothing, like warm milk and honey after a long day.

"I'd say you're a pretty good guesser, Edward." I smile then, and the muscles in my face are so out of practice all I manage is a weak squiggle at the corners. I turn to face him and allow, "You can turn around now."

Instead of doing what I ask he sits down on the wet pine needles and pats the earth next to him, "Sit down," he says.

I grudgingly comply, but I'm really pretty cold and want nothing more than to curl up in the warmth of my bed and sleep until tomorrow comes. I sigh as I ease my shivering knees up under my chin and turn my gaze to Edward.

"Why do I feel like I'm forcing you to be with me?" he mutters. "If you want to leave you can. I won't be insulted. I get that I probably just ruined your evening and you're totally embarrassed about being caught with the new kid. So if you want to go, go. I won't be upset."

"No, Edward. It's not like that, honest. I've just had a long day, a long night, a long week, and I'm a little tired and cold. Why don't you tell me about where you came from? Why'd you move here?"

"I'd offer you my sweatshirt but it's soaking wet and trying to freeze against my skin as we speak. We don't we go somewhere warmer? I'd take you out for coffee or something, but I have no idea where a good place to go is."

"You've got three choices here. The Diner, which serves the same pot of lukewarm coffee all day long, Starbucks inside the Safeway downtown where my aunt works and she's likely to talk you to sleep before she even gets started on your drink, or there's Claire's. It's a little bookstore over by the school, the girl who owns it, Claire, serves coffee, tea, and home baked cookies if you're willing buy a book from her. Claire's is my favorite, but it may not be your kind of thing."

He gives each of his choices a few seconds of thought before asking, "What type of books does she sell?"

"Whatever you request. She also has a selection of classics, some bestsellers, a lot of romance novels, a few self-help books, and a travel guide or two."

"And the coffee's good?" He smiles.

"The tea is better. But yes, other than 'Bucks, she's got the best in town."

"Okay. Claire's it is. Did you drive yourself here?"

"Nah," I say, "I walked." I point across the cove underneath us to a lit up little house. "That's where I live."

"Well, if you wanna head over to my car we can leave the rain behind, curl up with a good book, and get to know each other a little better. What time do you have to be home by?"

"My dad won't care. He's working this week, so he isn't home."

"What's your dad do?" He asks as we set off towards the parking area.

I consider lying to him, but figure word gets around too fast. "He's a cop."

"Oh." Edward says. "Oh. Umm, well, my dad – Carlisle – is an E.R. doctor, so I kind of know how the 'important parent' thing goes."

Again my lips try to form a smile and I wonder briefly if I should have worn make-up today before shrugging off the thought. _I'm not that attractive anyway._ "So you're one of the Cullens."

Edward makes a noncommittal grunt before mumbling, "Word gets around fast here, doesn't it?"

At that I laugh. _Yes, Edward, yes, yes it does._

He stops alongside the only new looking car in the designated parking zone. It's a shiny silver Volvo and compared to the beat up grey Honda next to it, the car looks like something straight out of Autoweek. "This is my baby," He smiles, embarrassed. "Um, she was a birthday present from my dad a few years ago. My biological dad, not the one I'm living with." He says with a wince, watching my expression.

Adopted. Cullen. Car. Nice. Hot. "Oh," is all I can think to reply. We climb into the car and I'm careful to avoid getting mud all over his upholstery.

"So, Claire's?" He says, waiting for directions before heading out onto the road.

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**A/N: review?**


	2. Chapter 2: Louder Than Words

**A/N: So, holy crap. This was received waaaaay better than I expected. I got two reviews, and a TON of watches. Hopefully this lives up to your expectations. Let me know what you think, how I can improve, and if my chapter lengths are okay. **

**thanks. dd.**

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**Chapter 2**

**Louder Than Words**

"_A discovery is said to be an accident meeting a prepared mind."_

_Albert Szent-Gyorgyi_

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When we get to Claire's I tell Edward to park on the road. I neglected to inform him Claire runs her shop out of her renovated garage. There's a handcarved wooden sign hanging above the mailbox declaring this section of the house as, "Claire's Books and Teas." I lead Edward toward the side door a knock twice before letting us in. A bell rings inside her house. The garage isn't as industrial as it sounds. The carpet is a soft beige and just inside the tiled entryway there's a stuffed animal rabbit holding a sign politely requesting patrons remove their shoes. Off to one side of the open area is a midsized bar with granite countertops and a few barstools. The other side of room is packed with seven bookshelves labeled with "Good Books", "Great Books", "Free Books", "Self-Help", "Travel", "Romance", and "Classics". There are black and white photographs of dogs and small children, posters of upcoming movies, and fliers for community events lining the walls. Scattered throughout the room are bean bag chairs, recliners, and the two bay windows are lined with moss green bedding.

"Claire's," I say softly as Edward finishes unlacing his boots. He smiles at me before Claire walks into the room all hustle and bustle.

"What can I get for you?" She asks hurriedly tying her apron on. Her hair is a little rumpled and her jeans have paint on them. It wouldn't surprise me if she had been playing with her children before we arrived. Claire and Quil Ateara have two kids, Raven, the girl, is seven and her little brother, Sam, is five. All the money I earn comes from babysitting those two rascals and selling books behind Claire's counter.

"Bella! Hey!" Claire greets as she finally looks up at her guests, "Who's this?" She looks Edward up and down once before nodding her head in approval.

"This is Edward Cullen. He's new here. His dad is the new surgeon." I say, "Edward, this is Claire, Claire, Edward."

Edward extends his hand and makes eye contact as he speaks. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Claire. Bella was positively raving about your tea, cookies, and selection of books. We figured we'd stop by and get out of the rain, if we're not interrupting anything."

"'Pleasure's mine, Edward. Did Bella tell you she's obligated to tell you that? Little missy here works for me. Though, modesty aside, I do make the best cookies in town." She winks then.

He chuckles, and it's the nicest sound I've heard all day.

The silence that follows isn't terribly awkward, but I break it as soon as I can. "My usual," I say to Claire before turning to Edward. "We have stellar hot coco, a huge selection of teas, some blended coffee drinks, and pastries in as many different varieties as you can think of. I drink rose hip tea and have two French macaroons on the side. Anything sound good to you?"

"I'll take a hot chocolate and a scone if you have them." Edward has a very soft presence about him. He's always politely and speaks in slightly hushed tones. His voice doesn't bring to mind honey, or silk, like the romance novels lining Claire's shelves would say, but it does make me feel safe and warm.

I wonder off towards the free books letting Edward and Claire get to know each other. Claire's a talker; I'm not. She's a very nice lady, though. Easy to get along with, understanding, full of smiles and joy. I listen to Edward and her make easy conversation about the weather and what Edward thinks of Forks so far. I run my fingers lightly over the worn paperback spines of the novels before me.

I remember being six or seven years old the first time I came to Claire's. My dad put my up on a barstool with a ten dollar bill and told me to buy whatever I wanted. As I sipped on the hot coco in front of me I talked with Claire about why unicorns were amazing. I told her I had the movie _The Last Unicorn_ at home and that it made me cry. At that Claire reached into the display case and grabbed me a brownie to go alongside the hot chocolate warming my hands.

At this point in time Claire was childless, single, and trying to make a living while paying her way through online college. As my dad scanned the bookshelf for a travel guide on Florida, where my mother lived at the time, Claire and I got to know each other. At the time her book selection was limited but she helped me off the barstool and held my hand as she showed me through the stacks of books. She told me, and I still remember her exact words to this day, "Books are gateways to other worlds." She handed me a copy of _Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No-Good, Very Bad Day_. I read it the whole way home, that entire evening, and the next morning I was begging my dad to take me back to Claire's for another book.

"Hey," Edward's musical voice interrupts my inner ramblings. "Drinks are ready." He pulls two bean bags together after carefully setting our drinks down. He stands alongside me and quickly scans the books before grabbing one off the shelf. He sets it down in his lap and pats the bag next to him. "Please, sit."

I come to him empty handed and ease my tired, and gradually warming, body into the chair beside him. "So," I say, always the conversationalist.

He chuckles again and the safety and warmth of his voice envelopes me again. "So, your dad's a cop, your mom is…" He's cautious. I didn't mention her earlier and he's thinking she may be dead, or the likes.

"She lives in Michigan, now." I say, "But she's lived in Ohio, Alaska, Arkansas, Kansas, California, Texas, and New Mexico." I pause. "In the last four years." His eyes are wide. "My parents got divorced when I was really young, I stayed with my dad and my mom went touring the country. She's remarried now, to a guy nearly half her age. He used to play baseball and has a lot of money from that. He's retired now and he and my mom spend their days finding new houses to buy, selling the old ones, and making pottery. We email a lot, but that's about as close as our relationship is." I let him mull that over for a second before asking, "What about your parents? Where are you from?"

He takes a deep breath. "I was born in Chicago. My mom's name was Elizabeth, and my dad is Edward. She died giving birth and my dad wasn't a kid person. He put me up for adoption when I was a few days old and the Cullens, who can't have children of their own, quickly snagged me up. My dad and I have been in contact for as long as I can remember and we typically get together at least once a month to catch up on life. He's a business man for some corporation in New York, and he makes a shit-ton of money. He paid for my private school back in California.

"I grew up in a small city called Temecula. Though, compared to this place, Temecula seems huge. It was sunny, and warm, and not at all like Forks. Ummm, I have a little sister," He makes air quotes around the word sister, "and an older brother. My sister's name is Alice, she's 15, and Emmet, he just turned 18." He taps his index finger on his front teeth, "Yeah, I think that about sums me up. So, do you have any siblings?"

We get talking, and before I know it Claire is hovering over us. "I hate to break you guys up, but… it's closing in on midnight, and Bella has to open at 5:30 tomorrow, so you may want to head on home."

"Shit!" I grab my jacket off the floor where I'd tossed it at some point during our conversation. I stand and stretch before turning to Edward, "I hate to ask, but can I catch a ride home?"

Claire waves and nods at me as she turns to enter her house. 'Sorry,' I mouthed. She just waves me off.

Edward and I walk out the front door into the frigid night air in silence. We sit in his car waiting for the heater to kick on before Edward asks for directions. As he steers us down my winding driveway I'm trying to come up with the right way to say thank you. In the most literal context, Edward saved my life tonight. If not for him I'd be a lifeless body washed up on La Push Beach. When Edward parks in my driveway I turn to him and say thanks. Not for the life saving bit, but because he saved me from the awful music at the bonfire.

"Bella," He asks me then. "Can I ask you a question?"

I'm apprehensive, and going off my gut feeling I should have answered, "No," And called it a night. Instead I stare into his eyes and feel the warmth he exudes covering me again. I nod once and clear my throat. "Yeah," Is all I utter, and almost immediately I want to take it back. It was nice getting to know Edward, but friends don't do anything but act as dead weights on a dying person. And I'm dying. I'm the 17 year old suicidal girl and I can't have friends because all they do is put a wrench in my plan.

There's a long pause before Edward speaks, but when he does I'm one hundred percent sure I shouldn't have agreed to let him ask his question.

"What were you doing up on the cliff?"

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**A/N: Review?**


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